TRIGGER WARNING: References to potential sexual assault, violence. Please continue reading at your own informed discretion.
@sothaes-wra
She didn't cry. Not when they struck her. Not when the door shut behind her and she knew, in an instant what type of night it would be. Not when his mouth forcefully split hers, and his hands moved to places they had no right to be.
Fayniria Highsorrow did not cry.
She bled, yes. Bruised, yes.
But she would not under any circumstances let them see her cry. She met him with her eyes open, the kind of hollow fury that would burn in her for an eternity's span. She met him with an iron spine. She gave him nothing - not one inkling of weakness, aside from the situation she had found herself in.
Now, in the hush that fell around her and her twin, she trembled. Just once, just enough for him to feel it. When she spoke, her voice was rough from disuse. From the screaming she'd done, only once she was alone. Only once she was certain no one would hear it but her. Her voice came low, "I didn't let them see."
Not her pain. Not her fear. No, those were emotions she buried deep. She hid them in the deepest parts of her marrow, bound them hard in a cage she rarely acknowledged, let alone unlocked. In those moments, her limbs had locked in place, and her throat closed around a scream she had refused to give them.
She turned her head, just barely. Just enough to offer him the barest whisper of a gaze, while her irises swirled with the cool removal of her detachment. The only spark that remained in them was for him and him alone. Her hand moved to wipe at her cracked lower lip, and then onto the bruise that had begun to blossom across her right cheekbone. It was ghostly ink, spilled upon the parchment of her fair skin.
For just an instant, there it was. The ruin behind her lashes, she flinched just faintly, like the brief falter of a flame. She broke, just a little, feeling the bruising near her left hip pulse itself with the angry thrum of her heart. Only he was allowed to see the depth that stirred in her. Her voice was barely a breath - both sacred, and savage.
"I am tired, So'thaes." She didn't need to elaborate. She reached for him then, not as a victim but as a twin star which had been struck from her place in the sky. Her mouth was set, and she took a slow, trembling breath. Acid laced itself into her tone when she spoke again, "Don't ask what they did. But ruin them for it."
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